


mel·an·cho·li·a

by quartzguts



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: 90 percent soft feelings 10 percent the not so soft tags, Biting, Blood Drinking, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 00:32:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19307011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartzguts/pseuds/quartzguts
Summary: Saïx is suffering from the loss of his heart. Xemnas offers him a distraction.





	mel·an·cho·li·a

**Author's Note:**

> full disclosure i'm not sure what this is but it was fun to write so here ya go!  
> apparently my brain has decided that sharing a bed is the Highest Form of Romance

\---

 

Sometimes Saïx gets this heavy feeling in his chest, like there are weights around his nonexistent heart. It aches, worse than any injury, strong and persistent and needy. Saïx can barely stand whenever the feeling comes, always needing to run to an empty room where he can lean against a chair or desk or wall until he feels well enough to walk again.

 

He doesn’t know why it happens, exactly. There’s no clear trigger for it, no obvious sign that it’s going to strike. It just happens. The ache is capricious and unpredictable. It’s not at all like the order found in the phases of the moon or the chain of command in the Organization. Saïx hates it.

 

He’s clutching his hand to his chest, his breaths heavy with not-quite-sobs, leaning against the back of a chair in a vacant room when the door opens.

 

His head snaps up. In the split second between hearing the noise and seeing the person who made it, Saïx hopes that it isn’t one of the senior members. Most of them are still pissed at him for taking the position of second in command; they dislike having someone from outside their inner circle bossing them around. The only ones who don’t seem to mind as much are Lexaeus and, surprisingly, Xigbar; Lexaeus doesn’t care who’s in charge as long as they’re competent and loyal, and Saïx can only assume Xigbar likes the extra free time he gets now that he’s been relieved of duty.  Lexaeus would be okay about this probably, but Xigbar would make fun of him. For a brief moment, Saïx wonders if the person at the door is Axel, but he immediately banishes that possibility. They haven’t spoken much since Saïx became second in command. And Axel would have no reason to be wandering around the castle at this late hour anyway.

 

That train of thought doesn't matter. It isn’t Axel.

 

Xemnas regards Saïx coolly. His face is expressionless, which is normal, but the familiar sight doesn’t put Saïx at ease. He knows the Superior is evaluating him right now, taking in everything about his unkempt appearance for later review. No doubt he’s noticed the tears gathering in his eyes, the shaking in his knees, the tangles in his hair from where he fisted his hands in it earlier. He’s judging him. Reconsidering whether he’s fit to be second. Saïx knows it.

 

“Superior,” he chokes out. His throat is tight and speaking is almost impossible. “I - this is just -”

 

Xemnas doesn’t bother listening to what he has to say. He holds up a hand and beckons Saïx closer.

 

Saïx takes a deep breath, as best as he can, and pushes his weight off the chair. He manages a few steps in Xemnas’s direction before he stumbles, shaky legs unable to hold his own weight. He closes his eyes, resigning himself to the brutal embarrassment of falling at his Superior’s feet, when an arm wraps around his waist and catches him mid fall.

 

He cracks one eye open, knowing what just happened but not believing it. Xemnas is so close, Saïx can smell the shampoo he used earlier during his evening shower.

 

“Are you ill?” Xemnas asks, moving one hand to hold Saïx’s arm and the other to cup his back.

 

“No,” Saïx says. He’s trying desperately to balance himself so the Superior isn’t completely holding his weight, so he forgets himself for a moment. When he realizes his mistake, he hastily adds a “sir” to his answer.

 

Xemnas cocks his head and narrows his eyes. Such pretty eyes, deep orange with speckles of gold that remind Saïx of the sun right as it rises or sets. “Then what is the matter?”

 

Saïx grimaces. There’s no escaping giving an answer now. Xemnas will figure out the truth sooner or later. He’s a scientist, after all; he never relents until he has his answer, and he knows exactly how to get to the truth.

 

“I’m just out of sorts at the moment, sir,” he says, careful not to mention the emotional aspect of his problem. He knows his current feelings of hopelessness and grief are just shadows of the real thing. They shouldn’t cause him to falter so much.

 

“I see. Does this happen often?”

 

“Not… often, sir.”

 

“But it _has_ happened before?”

 

Saïx’s throat has closed completely from his anxiety. He nods.

 

Xemnas hums, taking a moment to look him over. He doesn’t say anything as he summons the darkness, letting it wrap around them. Saïx closes his eyes again, wondering if he’s being taken to Vexen. Maybe Xemnas will dump him in the lab and order his fourth to figure out what’s wrong with him.

 

To his surprise, when the darkness recedes he doesn’t hear the low whirring of Vexen’s lab equipment or Zexion’s quiet muttering. He looks around gingerly, even more surprised to see the familiar furnishings of Xemnas’s office. Xemnas walks them over to his desk, carefully shifting Saïx’s weight to one arm while he pulls out his desk chair. It’s large, and made of black leather. Xigbar had brought it back from a mission one day, joking about how their Superior needed a proper throne.

 

Xemnas sits down and pulls Saïx down with him, so he’s sprawled across the Superior’s lap.

 

Saïx stares for a moment, too shocked for words. There’s blood rising to his cheeks and ears. His heart still aches, but being so close to Xemnas has quieted it somewhat.

 

“What,” he manages.

 

“You are suffering from the loss of your heart,” Xemnas says simply. His expression hasn’t changed much. He looks bored, but Saïx knows better. That’s just how he looks - he can’t feel emotions like boredom. “It happens to all of us. It is nothing to be ashamed of.”

 

“This is worse than the others,” Saïx says. His whole body has started to shake. Saïx can’t tell if it’s from false anxiety, embarrassment, or something else.

 

“Saïx,” Xemnas says, brining a hand up to cup his face. “You are _different_ from the others. Your heart is more precious to you. Of course you would feel its loss more keenly.”

 

“I see,” Saïx says. The Superior is full of riddles and mystery, but when he speaks plainly he tends to make a lot of sense. “And why are we… doing this?”

 

“To help ease your anxiety.” Xemnas pulls him closer, so Saïx is sitting flush against his body, one leg on either side of Xemnas’s waist. “As nobodies, we have no ability to feel. However, the desire to be close to another for comfort is still something we possess. I’d thought your relationship with VIII would be sufficient to alleviate these symptoms, but evidently I was wrong.”

 

“We have no ‘relationship’,” Saïx snaps before he can help himself. When he realizes the tone he just used with the Superior, he backtracks. “I’m sorry sir, I didn’t mean -”

 

Xemnas steals away his words by starting to stroke through his hair. The sensation is relaxing, and it has Saïx leaning into the crook of Xemnas’s neck. “Pay it no mind. This is for your well being. Say whatever you like.”

 

“Whatever I like…” Saïx closes his eyes. The ache in his chest has subsided just a little bit more, enough that he can breathe easily again. “Why do you care if I suffer this way?”

 

“You are my second. I need you at your best.”

 

“Is that… it?”

 

Xemnas’s hand pauses for a moment before going back to brushing out the knots in his hair. “I dislike seeing you in pain.”

 

The admission sends a thrill down Saïx’s spine. He had started sticking close to Xemnas as a way to find out what had happened to _her_ , and he had hated Xemnas, as much as he could hate, for what he had done to her. As time passed, though, he’d learned that Xemnas is completely different from Xehanort. He lacks his casual cruelty, his calculating manipulation, his slimy disposition. Xemnas _could_ be manipulative and cruel, but more often than not he’s open and efficient. A firm pillar for Saïx to cling to in the chaotic, emotionless violence of a world filled with nothing but nobodies and heartless.

 

Saïx turns to nuzzle his Superior’s neck, opening his mouth slightly to press his teeth against it. His canines almost ache; he often feels as though he’d become something inhuman when he lost his heart. Something more than just a walking corpse like the others. A feral instinct had coursed into his veins, not like anything he’d ever felt before.

 

It's keening now. Crying out for his Superior. The beast inside him isn't hesitant like Saïx - it knows what it wants and has no qualms about vocalizing it.

 

“Saïx?” Xemnas questions. He leans his head just slightly to the side, baring his neck.

 

Saïx’s breath hitches. “Superior.”

 

“I see,” Xemnas says, sounding contemplative. “Very well. This may be just as effective.” He cups the back of Saïx’s head and presses him against his neck.

 

Saïx bites down immediately. His sharp teeth make it easy to break skin. Xemnas grunts a little above him, but it’s background noise compared to the sweet gush of blood spilling from the wound. Saïx pulls out his teeth and begins licking up the blood immediately, savoring its metallic taste.

 

He laps at the wound until it stops bleeding and clots begin to form. As much as he wants to break them and drink more, he restrains himself. The ache in his chest has completely vanished, replaced with the sweet satisfaction of catching his prey. He knows that was the purpose; Xemnas had given himself up willingly, to replace Saïx’s hurt with something he knew was more powerful. This deep, primal instinct. This desire for closeness and blood.

 

He runs his tongue over his teeth, gathering up the tiny droplets left over from the bite, and looks up. Xemnas’s eyes are half closed, his mouth open, jaw slack. He looks as entranced by what just happened as Saïx does.

 

Saïx kisses him before he can gather himself enough to protest.

 

The feel of warm lips and a soft tongue against his own brings him back down from his high. Saïx breaks the kiss almost immediately and looks away, embarrassed and confused by what he just did. There's an itch spreading just beneath the surface of his skin, burning every place where his body is pressed against Xemnas’s.

 

Xemnas chuckles. It seems the kiss brought him back, too. “Feeling better?” he asks.

 

“Yes, Superior,” Saïx mutters. He pushes his body away from Xemnas’s. His leather coat feels unbelievably stuffy. “Thank you.”

 

“Good,” Xemnas says. He lets his hands fall from Saïx’s hair and back, and Saïx takes the hint, sliding off of his lap and standing up. His legs are still shaking, but this time it isn’t from weakness. It’s adrenaline. “If there is nothing else, you may go. Please take the rest of the day off to relax.”

 

_Relax_ here is subjective. Saïx knows without a doubt that after he leaves he’ll immediately go to Addled Impasse and kill as many of his Berserkers as possible. He hopes, for their sake, that none of the others decide to bother him before he gets there.

 

Saïx can’t leave yet, though. He stands stock-still, keeping his hands safely at his sides (he wants them on Xemnas’s body, wants what he knows he can’t have), waiting for his Superior to ask what he needs. He can’t risk speaking first. He doesn’t know what he’ll say.

 

“ _Is_ there something else?”

 

Saïx barely lets him finish speaking. “You said all of us have this problem.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Even you?”

 

“...Yes.”

 

Saïx bites his lip. “Could I... would you allow me to help you?”

 

Saïx has caught him off guard. He revels in Xemnas’s surprised expression. He revels even more in the way he tilts his head slightly, showing off the bite, still glistening with blood and Saïx’s saliva. It’s going to scar. Saïx knows it.

 

“Very well.”

 

Saïx can’t help but grin, exposing his teeth. “Thank you, Superior.”

 

Later that night, he rips a Berserker to pieces with his bare hands, still thinking about his teeth stuck in Xemnas’s throat. Even later, as he lies awake in his own bed, the ache in his chest returns with a vengeance. He thinks of Xemnas, saying plainly that he doesn’t like seeing him in pain, and sighs.

 

He thinks next time he’ll just ask the Superior to hold him until the ache goes away.

 

\---

 

Saïx gets the chance to have the Superior hold him a few days later, although not in the way he expects. He’s just finished handing out the daily missions; the ache in his chest is back, but it’s not severe enough to warrant bothering Xemnas yet. He’ll finish his primary duties for the day, and when it gets bad enough that he can’t walk anymore, he’ll use a portal to get to Xemnas’s office quickly. He’s somewhat worried about the others walking in on them, but with all probability no one will even come near the office. Xemnas has gotten slightly frantic over the past few days, caught up in some personal project he won’t let Saïx look into. The scientist in him shines brightly whenever something peaks his interest, and everyone has learned not to disturb him lest they be victim to his endless ramblings for the next several hours.

 

He’s just getting ready to go on his own mission - a rarity nowadays since they’re up to twelve members, but sometimes they really do need all hands on deck - when he senses that something is… off. He can tell Demyx and Xigbar - the only members left in the Gray Area - feel it too. They’re sitting up straight all of a sudden, Demyx’s eyes wide and Xigbar’s lips pursed.

 

“Fuck is that?” Xigbar asks.

 

“Dunno,” Demyx says, “feels like the darkness is crying. Man, that’s weird!”

 

It’s the type of awkward poeticism that Saïx has come to expect from Demyx (IX is a songwriter through and through, after all), but this time it makes him pause. He wouldn’t necessarily describe the darkness’s movements as _crying_ , but it’s definitely irregular and unpleasant. A faltering pulse, not unlike that of a… heartbeat….

 

Saïx has to stop himself from cursing. Without a word to Xigbar and Demyx, he stalks out of the room.

 

He forces himself to take another few steps down the hall, time to regain his composure, before opening up a portal and stepping through it. He’s in the Superior’s office in a matter of seconds. When the darkness recedes, he almost can’t believe his eyes.

 

The office is in total disarray. There are papers strewn about the floor, most of them covered with messy handwriting and hastily sketched diagrams. The small bookshelf adorning the far wall has been completely upheaved, with books crumpled on the floor, some torn and others shredded. The black leather desk chair is turned over on its side. There’s broken glass glittering on the floor next to a mostly dried, dark stain (wine? Saïx has a better sense of smell than most and he thinks it’s a red). The Superior is in the middle of it all, kneeling before the wall length window that reveals the dark skies outside. _Kneeling_ isn’t entirely accurate, though; he looks like he’d simply collapsed against the glass. His body is shaking with ragged breaths.

 

Saïx takes a single step forward and Xemnas whirls around. They stare at each other for a moment.

 

“VII,” Xemnas says. Saix sighs. He’s using the rank as a way of letting Saïx know he’s acting out of order. His voice is so weak, though, that it sounds more like a plea than a command.

 

Saïx ignores Xemnas and keeps walking forward. Xemnas tries to get up, but collapses back against the window. He shifts around so that he’s completely facing Saïx by the time he gets over to him. Saïx kneels in front of Xemnas and, without thinking, lays a hand over his chest.

 

Xemnas’s heart is beating wildly. His breathing is rapid, too. He coughs, probably trying to speak but unable to for the lack of room in his throat.

 

“You said you would let me help you,” Saïx says, and it sounds like an accusation even though he didn’t mean it to. Xemnas has the sense to cast his eyes down, away from Saïx’s glare. It’s almost a sheepish gesture. As if the Superior is capable of such a thing.

 

Saïx can’t remember Xehanort ever looking sheepish about anything.

 

He grabs Xemnas under his armpits and pulls him up to his feet. It feels stupid, picking him up like a child, but then this whole situation feels stupid. Saïx keeps glaring as he calls a small group of dusks to the room. He commands them to clean up the office, throw out the ruined books, and gather the Superior’s papers on his desk. Then he opens a portal and drags them through it.

 

Saïx would like to take Xemnas to his bedroom, since he knows that he, at least, prefers his own room when he gets like this. He can’t open a portal into the Superior’s private chambers, though. No one can. It took him ages to even be allowed to teleport into his office. So in lieu of that, he takes them to his own bedroom.

 

The lights automatically switch on as Saïx and Xemnas enter. Xemnas groans, shielding his eyes from the light. Saïx dimly remembers that his office lights had been turned down to the lowest setting. Out of courtesy, he does the same. Then he pushes Xemnas down to sit on his bed and goes about removing his boots. It’s threatening to awaken that feral instinct again, stripping Xemnas while he sits on Saïx’s bed, in Saïx’s room, but he resists. Giving in didn’t work out the best for him last time, and even more importantly, this isn’t about him.

 

He has to keep his cool. He can’t help Xemnas if he loses control. More than that, losing control might mean losing Xemnas’s trust.

 

Saïx thinks back to three days ago. Even as nobodies, they still desire comfort and physical contact. Keeping this in mind, he takes off Xemnas’s coat, folding it neatly and placing it on the small desk opposite his bed. He sets the boots on the ground. After a brief moment of hesitation, he removes his own boots and coat as well.

 

“VII,” Xemnas says again, “stop this immediately.”

 

“You _said_ ,” Saïx says, internally wincing at how much he sounds like a whiny teenager, because good god, he hasn’t been one of those in years, “I could _help_ you.”

 

“I didn’t summon you,” Xemnas says weakly.

 

“You didn’t have to.” Saïx pushes just slightly against Xemnas’s chest, and he falls over onto the bed. He turns to lay his head on the pillow, facing the ceiling, but doesn’t move to sit up again. “The darkness in the castle was getting restless. Demyx said it felt like it was crying.”

 

“Ah.” Xemnas grimaces. “I was not aware. My apologies.”

 

“Fuck,” Saïx bites out. “You’re really out of it, aren’t you?”

 

Xemnas looks to him, frowning. “That is... not how you usually speak.”

 

“It’s not how I usually speak to _you_.” Saïx crawls onto the bed, but instead of lying down he sits next to Xemnas’s head and places a hand tentatively in his hair. He doesn’t know exactly what to do, had never been good at comforting people even when he had a heart, so he decides to just try and mimic what Xemnas had done for him before. He begins petting his hair, as best as he can with Xemnas laying on his back. It’s shockingly soft for a man with such an otherwise powerful appearance.

 

“I am fine,” Xemnas says. “Cease this.”

 

“I will not.”

 

Xemnas groans, flipping over so he isn’t facing Saïx anymore. All this accomplishes is exposing his hair completely, and Saïx immediately takes advantage, running his fingers through it.

 

Saïx keeps petting his hair, trying desperately to think of things to do. Now that the immediate crisis (is that what this is? A crisis?) has passed, he’s beginning to panic over the familiar itch spreading under his skin. He can’t let his own animalistic instincts take over, and he won’t let Xemnas do anything similarly stupid.

 

Why did he even _let_ him do that? He’ll have to ask later.

 

For now, he decides to get him to talk. Hopefully he can come up with something comforting to say. “Superior.”

 

“...yes.”

 

“Why did you destroy your office?” is what he decides to lead with. Not the best conversation starter, but it’s all he has. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in a position to destroy anything when I’m like that.”

 

“...memories, I would wager. Most of them associated with powerful emotions I can no longer comprehend nor feel.” Xemnas relaxes somewhat as he speaks. Saïx holds in his sigh of relief. It’s working. “They often come to mind when I am missing my heart. I know the people and places in them once meant a great deal to me, but I can no longer understand why that is. In my attempt to rationalize the situation, I lost control of myself.”

 

Xemnas reaches back to grab Saïx’s hand, but he doesn’t push him away or pull him closer. Instead he simply holds his hand. Saïx curses himself for not having taken off their gloves.

 

It doesn’t really matter. The gesture of mock-affection still sends shockwaves through his body. His own chest screams at the emptiness left there. Saïx grunts as the ache spreads, quickly overcoming the itch.

 

Xemnas sits up quickly. At first Saïx thinks he must be feeling better, until he notices how Xemnas winces with the sudden movement.

 

He lets go of Saïx’s hand in favor of cupping his face. “You are suffering as well.”

 

“It’s nothing,” Saïx says instinctively, wincing at the obvious lie even as he says it.

 

Xemnas narrows his eyes. It’s the usual not-glare he gives all of them when he’s displeased. In their current situation, it doesn’t look very intimidating. “Lie down with me.”

 

Saïx closes his eyes. “Yes, Superior.”

 

They lie down. Saïx can’t remember having ever laid down with someone before. He hadn’t been an affectionate person before he’d lost his heart. There were times when he’d held that girl’s hand, or hugged Lea, but that had been pure friendship. It wasn’t nearly as intense as… as whatever he almost-feels when he’s next to Xemnas, as pathetic as that sounds. A nobody’s feelings being more intense than those of a real person? Preposterous.

 

Still, the feeling washes over him. For a brief moment, he feels almost peaceful - as much as he can with the void in his chest throbbing painfully.

 

The moment is broken when Xemnas pulls him closer, nudging his face towards the still-healing bite mark on his neck.

 

Saïx forces himself to turn his head away. “No.”

 

Xemnas stares at him. “Why not? It worked well the last time.”

 

“It didn’t.”

 

“I don’t understand." Ah. _There's_ his answer. Saïx isn’t surprised, since for all his affectations, Xemnas always seems a little confused about everything. He absentmindedly brushes some of Xemnas’s hair out of his face.

 

He isn’t sure how to articulate what he wants to say, but he needs to try. “What we did… it helped alleviate the initial symptoms, but the ache returned later, much worse than before.”

 

“I see,” Xemnas says. “If that method was not effective, then we will not do it again. I do not wish to cause you harm.”

 

Saïx nods. He hadn’t realized it until just now, but Xemnas never seems to argue with him, regardless of the situation. He can’t remember the last time the Superior openly challenged an idea he had.

 

Is it apathy? Trust? Or is Xemnas simply tired of being the Superior, and wants someone else to take control?

 

Saïx blinks hard, trying to clear his head of the unnecessary thoughts. “I would like if we could attempt your original solution.”

 

“Physical comfort, then.” Xemnas closes his eyes, sliding one hand under the pillow. He looks like he’s about to fall asleep. In Saïx’s bed.

 

Saïx slides up, so that his face is just above Xemnas’s. That doesn’t happen often; Saïx is just slightly shorter, so he always has to look up at the Superior. From this angle, Xemnas looks younger, less intimidating. Or maybe that’s just the situation. With a quick command, the rest of the light vanishes, leaving them in total darkness. Saïx tentatively wraps his arms around Xemnas’s neck, and Xemnas puts one of his arms around his waist.

 

They lie there for a while in the darkness, occasionally shifting around to get more comfortable. In no time, they’ve eliminated the space between them, so they’re snuggled up to one another. Xemnas has tucked his head right under Saïx’s chin. The weird domesticity of it all feels right.

 

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Xemnas says quietly.

 

_Yes_. “What are you referring to?”

 

“The darkness.” He sighs. He sounds almost happy. “It’s calm, quiet. It allows you to simply exist, without bringing attention to all of your flaws, all of your cracks. It lets you be without illuminating all the places you don’t quite fit together.”

 

“...you’re addressing me, but I believe you’re talking about yourself,” Saïx says cautiously. “Is that correct?”

 

He doesn’t get an answer, so he continues. “Is there nothing else you find ‘nice’ about this?”

 

Xemnas chuckles. “There’s you, of course, but I thought that was obvious.”

 

“Nothing is obvious when it comes to you,” Saïx says with a huff.

 

“Come here.”

 

Saïx shuffles closer. He can’t see Xemnas, but he can feel his breath on his lips. The ache is almost completely gone. The easy touch of Xemnas’s fingers against his jaw means he’s feeling better as well.

 

Saïx leans in and kisses him, except this time they’re both all there. By the time they pull apart, they’re okay again.

 

They stay there until the metaphorical dawn comes.

 

\---


End file.
